Pure Thoughts
by BornWolfgirl
Summary: Ever wonder what in the world was going through Lucius' mind there towards the end there. Here are some thoughts on the subject.


Disclaimer: I own naught but the plot. The rest is the brainchild of the brilliant J.K. Rowling

A/N: I don't know what I was thinking but I wrote this a long time ago. I edited it before posting. At one time I had plans for this little ramble but I've long since lost the plot. If anyone wants to run with it and do some sort of spin-off then you have my full permission just make me a mention, please. Otherwise one with the show...Enjoy!

The blood through his veins boasted some of the most ancient and pure lineages. If the family manifest was accurate, his ancestors were some of the first to enter Europe at the end of the last ice age. That was the claim but no other recorded proof was known even by magic.

The goblins told tales of his kin who had fought valiantly, and heroically in wars immemorial to any man or book. Those wars being the one that transformed the family position in society from mere lowly foot soldiers to be slaughtered to powerful leaders in their own right, able to bend the ears of any ruler. The power his family had welded in those times were passed down through generations with pride if not always honor until recent generations that is, when their influence seemed to be weakening. Power corrupts they say and only now was Lucius seeing that truth clearly through liquor hazed eyes.

Some of the volts at Gringotts were among the first to ever be established. There were parts of their volts deep within Gringotts that hadn't been entered for generations at a time, with treasures forgotten in time and blood the only key left to access. Not even the goblins dare go there. One ancestor postulated that they even may have hidden the muggle's god's wonder box the arc or something within one. However, he ended up going missing while searching and his hand found a century later looking rather fresh but mutilated. No one dare to go searching for the rest.

Back then the Malfoy name held the utmost honor and glory. Representing the very best of wizard nobility and purity. Their surname had changed a few times through the course of time of course but still meant the same.

Bad Faith.

But that was always a misnomer of great deliberateness. Cultivated as a reminder to themselves and others that not everything was as it seems. To question everything and trust none but themselves.

Lucius lets out a hard, ha. What hypocrites he was.

Now it represented shame and failure. It was whispered with fear and loathing. Even among other Pures, they no longer garnered the respect they once had in his grandparent's day. He took on the mantel of the most noble and pure house of Malfoy with such hopes and plans. When his father passed on shortly after his grandson was born, he felt empowered to implement those plans. The then raising Dark Lord talked with a honeyed tongue that promised to support all those plans with interest and he was eager to be a part of changes he envisioned. Then he was willing to do anything and become anything to please his chosen master but it wasn't until later that he learned that is what the Dark Lord became to him.

His _Master_.

His ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they knew what he had reduced their name to.

Lucius threw back another tumbler of his family's finest brew then slammed the fine crystal glass at the fireplace.

Breathing hard and fighting tears of shame and self-loathing, the Malfoy elder struggled valiantly to regain control and return his image to the icy vestige everyone expected.

His 'Master' would be returning any moment and if he and his family were to survive this mess he would have to employ every bit of shrew cunning and practicality that he ever learned and inherited. He and his generation were lost but if the Malfoy family were to survive and perhaps thrive once more then his son would need to survive. It would be a long road to pulling the Malfoy name from the muck but even if Draco couldn't then his heir will. Malfoys were survivors.

From a young age, he had been regaled by the stories of privilege his ancestors enjoyed. He had dreamed he could reclaim those honors and more but he and his father before him had made a fatal mistake. Putting their faith, trust, money, magic and might behind the wrong side. Now he and his family were reaping the so-called promised rewards of their efforts. Often suffering in fear and of unimaginable pain but there was still hope. Sadly, he felt that the past would need to be fully dead before that happened and thus he would never witness the true glory he once dreamed of as a child.

Within his heart, he knew he would never see the results of the changes he was about to enact now but he knew those changes would set the stage of survival for the Malfoy lineage. The Malfoys would lose much but like the phoenix rebuild once this firestorm of a war ended. He would make sure of it.

The Malfoys would preserver no matter what the cost. He knew all he had to do was stand tall and think pure thoughts.


End file.
